Pendragon Rising

Darryl Anderson

Description

This is an action packed story about the reincarnation of King Arthur Pendragon. He is called forth to save the worlds, and he is joined by his two best friends, his mom, and of course Mierlien, known as Merlin.
Approximately 1,600 years ago King Arthur Pendragon, the once and future king, died. About 17 years ago he was reborn on another world.
On a world named Valherus, Merlin, who is called Mierlien, follows the signs, finds the baby he believes to be the reincarnation of the Pendragon. He saves the baby from monsters and ferries him to earth for Safety. Mierlien hires a woman to take care of the baby. She is a warrior of great skill, and a fierce momma bear. Jason, the Pendragon, is a typical kid with some special abilities. Other than being called on to save the worlds, he also has the power to see into peoples’ minds,, although he can’t really control it.
Although Mierlien is only trying to save one boy with a great destiny, Jason is joined by his two friends. Red, a smart ass with a sharp wit, and David, a nerd or a bookworm or both. They have been friends since kindergarten in their tiny town of Sweet Home and they refuse to let their friend leave without a good bye, even though they don’t believe he is just moving away all of the sudden. Mierlien makes a portal for himself, Jason, and Angie, the woman he hired to watch over Jason. Red and David chase after and make it through the portal.
Once in Valherus the group has to figure why Jason has been called up, what he needs to do, and they need to Save Camelot from a creature named Vaelyr who can control any undead. They are attacked from all sides, beset by treachery, and outnumbered five to one with very few able citizens to fight. If Jason succeeds the Earth will never know and if he fails the worlds may be destroyed.

Sujets

• historical
• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• Adventure (Guyana)
• Dark Fantasy
• Adventure
• Fiction
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: AuthorHouse
• Date de parution: 24 février 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9798823001793
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

PENDRAGON RISING
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
DARRYL ANDERSON
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: [phone]
 
 
 
 
 
 
© 2023 Darryl Anderson. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 
Published by AuthorHouse  02/23/2023
 
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0180-9 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-8230-0179-3 (e)
 
 
 
 
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
Introduction
 
Chapter 1       Jason
Chapter 2       Fight
Chapter 3       Truth
Chapter 4       The Vision
Chapter 5       The Bridge
Chapter 6       The Master
Chapter 7       Hassinar
Chapter 8       Going Home
Chapter 9       Camelot Head
Chapter 10     Camelot
Chapter 11     Welcome Home
Chapter 12     The Regent
Chapter 13     Recovery
Chapter 14     Trouble on the Horizon
Chapter 15     Preparation
Chapter 16     On the Move
Chapter 17     The Siege Approaches
Chapter 18     Under Siege
Chapter 19     Night is Falling
Chapter 20     Midnight
Chapter 21     Dawn Approaches
Chapter 22     Dawn
Chapter 23     War with the Sunrise
Chapter 24     War
Chapter 25     Defeat
Chapter 26     Defeat Away
Chapter 27     A New Day
 
Epilogue
INTRODUCTION
The sky wasn’t even visible through the dark rain clouds overhead, let alone the constellations. It had been raining in torrents for nearly three full days. Mierlien was wet, cold, and miserable. He wanted desperately to create a fire and sit down for a while, but there was no time to warm old bones. Drudgingly he looked up at the steep mountain, between the trees and boulders, trying to find a path. Using his staff as a walking stick he pushed on, every muscle screaming at him with jolts of white-hot pain. Why can’t it ever happen in a nice warm tavern? Why the top of the Artiplan Mountains? “Because if it happened in a nice warm tavern, it wouldn’t be a challenge.” He answered his own question, as chilling rain dripped over the brim of his hat and ran down his cheeks in rivulets. The signs had told him about the birth. For the past six months, there had been rainstorms, and these were supposed to be dry seasons. Mierlien had learned long ago to listen to Nature. When she had a message for you, she might be subtle, but she would tell you if you listened. The rainstorms had been just a tap on the shoulder.
No boys had been born in Valherus in four months, although the birthrate was high now. Mierlien knew vaguely what this meant, but the specifics had evaded him at the time. Something was happening, and Nature was telling him that it would happen to a boy. The three days ago the Red Moon arose. It had looked as if the moon had been soaked in fresh blood. That was specific. Mierlien knew that meant the boy had been born, and that he must find him, no matter what it took. Red Moons came and went, pale pink or orange to the naked eye, caused by cloud cover, forest fires, or even the curvature of the planet. This was different. The blood red moon only rose when a Pendragon was born. Mierlien consulted the stars, and read the tea leaves, and even consulted bones. All had pointed to the Artiplan Mountains, but no place specific. These mountains were crawling with goblins, hobgoblins, wolves, and even ogres. Few people risked living in these wild mountains. Mierlien could only think of one village that dared risk existing in this area, and he hadn’t been there in a long time. There was a chance that he was wrong about the location, but the baby was born in these mountains, he would have to be someplace where people still were.
He trudged on through the dark mud, slipping every so often, and using his staff to catch him. If any of the Council of Edinar saw him using such a powerful artifact in such a manner, he would be scolded for years to come. They couldn’t see him. He had outlived the last of them so long ago that the very memory of them was starting to fade. Mierlien’s breath was coming in deep struggling gasps as he made his way. The cold damp air burned his lungs, and he could feel the strain on his organs. Up ahead, near a small rocky outcropping, he saw a fir tree with branches wide enough to shelter him. It was time for a break. He pushed his way through the mud and underbrush until he reached the tree. The roots and rock held back the mud, and the ground was covered in a deep green moss. Mierlien flopped his old body down into the moss, feeling his bones creak, and sighed deeply. Pulling a pure white cloth from inside his dark blue cloak he began to clean his staff. He wiped the mud from the base first, and then meticulously polished each of the many gems in the shaft one at a time. The staff sparkled when he had finished, and glowed slightly of its own accord, casting light blue and green shadows onto the tree Mierlien was leaning back against.
He sat there for a short time, grumbling to himself about his bones hurting and about various states of affairs. He was thinking about giving up and lighting a fire under the tree, when he was broken away from his thought by a thumping and rumbling in the ground. It shook only slightly but enough to tell him that something big was coming up the mountain. The rumbling was coming in rhythmic intervals and steadily grew stronger as it came closer. Mierlien steadied himself and tried to hide deeper in the shadows of the tree, concentrating on the staff until its own glow ceased.
“Get movin! We get there late on this one and it won’t be guard duty in Barask. We die. You understand that?!” A deep gravelly voice yelled at someone.
“Aye!” Another voice answered. This one didn’t sound as gravelly but sounded hoarse nonetheless. “Get movin hag! Or the gods help me I’ll eat you for lunch before I die!” There was nothing audible, but the rumbling sped up and trees could be heard falling in its wake.
Mierlien knew what it was. They were his competition to find the newborn. The hagradon was going to be slow in this mud. Its massive body was shaking the mountainside with every step causing the rumbling Mierlien was feeling. ‘Probably brought it to kill anything in the way’, he thought. He didn’t want anything to do with the beast. Quietly he stood up and started off in another direction. He was still heading up the mountain but not in the same path the hagradon was taking. The hagradon yowled its hatred of the thing on its back, echoing from mountaintop to mountaintop. “Go ahead, you dolts. Keep pushing that thing and I won’t have to worry about you.” Mierlien said this aloud, not worried about being heard over the noise of the hagradon. His body still ached. He hadn’t rested enough, but there was no time to waste.
He was moving faster than the others were but he wasn’t sure how much faster. The hagradon would yowl once in awhile but it was hard to tell how far back they were. He pushed on past exhaustion. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to go on. His heart was pumping and sweat poured from him mingling with the rain. His breath came in deep painful gulps, as he looked on. The village would be just over the next rise. He pushed himself into motion again, forgetting the pain in his chest. He would deal with that later if he lived through this.
As Mierlien topped the small ridge, he looked through the rain down into a small mountaintop valley, at the small village he had known in younger days. Most of the buildings had fallen down now. Weather and age had taken their toll. The village looked entirely deserted, much like a ruin. His heart sank. He must have been wrong about the location. He moved down into the valley clutching his chest hard and limping. The fields were overgrown with wild vegetation, and the town looked as if it had been deserted for hundreds of years. Mierlien’s heart sunk. “Where are you?” He asked the air. The hagradon roared loud echoing off the ridges of the valley, reminding Mierlien of his presence. They weren’t far-off now.
As he entered the one muddy street of the abandoned village, Mierlien could see the group with the hagradon coming down the slope of the mountain valley. The giant gray beast was pushing trees out of its path on the way down, getting more annoyed by the close quarters the forest was offering. They were headed direct into the village. Quietly he wondered how they had known the location. That wasn’t important now. Now the child was at stake.
Mierlien limped through the center of the village. Now he was just trying to get away from the others. The boy must be somewhere else. That was at least a comfort. He had to live to get him. He tried running but his chest was hurting to bad. He ducked into a small disheveled shack, hoping to find safety as the others made it into the small village following the same muddy road. There was a loud crash, and the sound of debris falling. Mierlien knew from experience what this sound was. The hagradon was smashing the buildings with its long tail as its masters looked for the infant. Another crash shook the tiny shack he was in. He had